


Persuasion

by Malana



Category: Thick of It (UK)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 14:52:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malana/pseuds/Malana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jamie enjoys needling Malcolm. Especially when it comes to Malcolm's feelings regarding Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Persuasion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> I gave a shout of joy when I was scrolling through all the prompts for Yuletide and saw that apparently someone else is just as big of a Malcolm/Sam pairing as I am. I immediately knew that I had to write something for it.

"You're staring at her again."

Malcolm blinked, turning to look at Jamie.

"What?"

Jamie gestured towards to doorway into Malcolm's outer office. "Sam. You're staring. Again."

Malcolm looked out at where his PA sat at her desk, busily typing away at her computer. He looked back at Jamie.

"I don't know what you're talking about. And keep your fucking voice down." Malcolm glared at him for a moment before returning to the files open on the desk in front of him. 

Jamie just grinned. 

"Okay."

\--------------

Malcolm had known from the very first day that Sam Cassidy was something special. He had been impressed with her in the interviews, of course. Otherwise he'd never have hired her in the first place. But no matter how smart and put-together someone might seem during an interview, there was still the distinct possibility they'd crumble when the realities of the job became clear. 

That hadn't been a problem with Sam. The first day she worked for him, she witnessed three separate bollockings before lunch, one of which happened a foot away from her desk. She'd also seen Jamie in full on frothing at the mouth, stabbing people in the throat mode. Jamie had been on a tear that day, and had even screamed for a few minutes at Sam herself. 

When Sam had responded by simply raising an eyebrow and asking Jamie if he'd like a tea, Malcolm knew that he had found a keeper.  
\---------------

The next time Jamie brings it up is at a Christmas party at Number 10. 

"Our Sam looks good tonight."

"She does," Malcolm agreed carefully, suspicious of where Jamie was headed with this.

"It's a nice dress."

"Jamie--" Malcolm began warningly.

"Dan Miller seems to like it."

"What?"

Jamie nodded towards the bar, where Dan and Sam where chatting. Malcolm followed his gaze. Sam was wearing a rather fetching red number. Just long enough to not be inappropriate for a work-do. Sam laughed at something Dan said, and when Dan rested his hand on her arm, Malcolm gritted his teeth.

"You okay, mate?" Jamie asked.

"Not my fucking business if she's got terrible fucking taste in men," Malcolm said evenly. 

"You want me to go scare him off?" Jamie suggested, rather eagerly.

"She's a smart girl," Malcolm argued. "She's know's that Disney Prince thing he has going on is all an act."

He shook his head, tearing his gaze away from the pair on the other side of the room. "Besides, she'd kick your bollocks in if you tried something like that."

Jamie looked slightly disappointed, but agreed.

"Okay."

\--------------

He was surprised by just how much he liked Sam. Yes, she was the best PA he'd ever had, but there was more to it than that. She was smart and funny and tough as hell. She showed absolutely no fear of Malcolm, Jamie, or the rest of the Caledonian Mafia. She could stare down angry Cabinet Ministers with ease and knew how to handle persistent reporters. 

He found himself genuinely enjoying her company. And, perhaps even more surprisingly, she seemed to enjoy his as well. 

\--------------  
"You should just ask her out."

"Shut up, Jamie."

They were in Malcolm's living room, drinking whisky after a long day of mopping up the latest disaster from Hugh Abbott and his pack of idiots at DoSAC.

"She likes you and you should ask her out."

"Shut absolutely the fuck up."

Jamie paused from re-filling their glasses.

"You are such a cowardly cunt."

"I'm her boss. I'm 20 years older than her. And just because she laughs at my jokes doesn't mean that she wants to fuck me."

"Well, she definitely wants to fuck you."

"Christ, Jamie, fuck off."

"You know, not that many people like you. You shouldn't let this opportunity slip away."

Malcolm tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Seriously, Jamie. I'm going to glass you if you don't shut up."

Jamie shrugged. 

"Okay."

\---------------------------

Malcolm didn't have a lot of friends. He's job didn't allow for it. And neither, if he were honest, did his personality. He didn't have the patience for dealing with most people. If you spend enough time terrifying people into doing what you want, normal human interaction becomes difficult. Losing Jamie after the PM's nearly disastrous resignation had left Malcolm with very few people he could rely on. 

Basically, there was only Sam. Sam, who was always there with a smile and a cup of tea near the end of a particularly bad day. Sam, who made sure that he ate and slept. Sam, who actually meant it when she asked how he was doing. 

Occasionally, Jamie's words would bubble up in his thoughts, but he always pushed them back down. Sam was a lovely young woman who certainly deserved more than a dried up old husk of a man who was nearly old enough to be her father. 

And he couldn't risk losing the relationship they did have. Couldn't jeopardize the one good, reliable relationship he had left in his life. 

Besides, he told himself, at the end of the day, he was still her boss. And it was entirely inappropriate. 

\----------------------------

The morning after his perjury trial was eventually dismissed for lack of evidence, his mobile rings. He considered hitting ignore, but paused when he saw Jamie's name come up on the screen. Their friendship was not what it once had been, but the over the past several months there had been signs of a thaw in the iciness that had developed between them. 

"Hello,"

"Congratulations on avoiding prison, you slippery ole' fuck."

"You must be disappointed," Malcolm said dryly. 

"Oh come on, Malc. You know if you're going to end up with a shiv in your stomach, I want to be the one to put it there."

Malcolm laughed for the first time in weeks. "You always say the nicest things."

"So, what's next for the world's angriest ex-spin doctor?"

Malcolm sighed. "No idea. Though I have apparently had several offers to buy my memoirs."

"Fucking hell, you could take down both the Government and the Opposition with those."

"It's certainly tempting."

"And what's young Sam doing in a post-Malcolm scenario?"

Malcolm snorted. "Ollie offered to keep her on as his PA"

"What?! The world's tallest foetus? Tell me she said no."

"Actually, she apparently dumped a mug of coffee in his lap and called him names that would have made even you blush."

"She's a good girl, Sam."

"That she is."

There was a pause. 

"You know," Jamie ventured. "You aren't her boss anymore."

Malcolm closed his eyes briefly, exasperated that they were back to this again. "Aye, but I'm too old for her. And now I'm also unemployed."

"Christ, but you are a fucking idiot."

"Jamie--"

"She's in love with you."

The words hung in the air for a long moment. 

"Like you'd know," Malcolm said eventually. "You never been an expert with women yourself."

"Malc, she told me she is."

Again, there was a long silence. 

"You talk to her?" Malcolm asked, an odd sensation he eventually identified as hope building in his chest. 

"Quite a bit, actually. She was worried sick over your trial, you know? Barely eating or sleeping. Kept breaking down on the phone."

"What? She never showed it. She was there everyday in court. Keep insisting that everything would be fine. Optimistic to the point of fucking annoyance she was."

"You are a stupidly lucky bastard."

"But--" Malcolm began, but Jamie interrupted.

"No more fucking 'buts'! You big fucking pansy, just ask her to dinner or something. I don't fancy driving all the way to London to kick your fucking teeth in."

"Jesus. Alright. Fine."

"What was that?" Jamie asked dangerously. 

"Fine! Fucking fine. I'll do it. I'll bloody ask her. Okay?"

Malcolm could practically hear Jamie's grin over the phone. 

"Okay."


End file.
